We Got Your Back
by PinkAngel17
Summary: Brody just wants to make sure Pride knows he's not alone. Three small 'missing scenes' set during 'More Now' (1x17).
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own NCIS:New Orleans.

A/N: This was inspired by 1x17 ('More Now') and takes place around the scene where Pride comes downstairs while LaSalle and Brody are doing dishes. There are two chapters. This first chapter is set before the scene where he comes downstairs. The final chapter will be set after that scene. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, here we go...

* * *

Pride was sitting at the piano when Merri peeked her head into the room. Just letting his fingers slowly play a nameless tune. He looked thousands of miles away and his face was clouded with a myriad of interweaving emotions and thoughts. She could read most of them pretty easily. She herself had been in his place not too long ago. Personal dilemmas, the past catching up with you, mistakes...

It all left its marks on a person and could leave a bitter taste in your mouth for weeks.

She knocked lightly on the doorframe to get his attention, but as expected he barely even blinked as his fingers continued to glide across the piano keys. She walked on into the room and stopped a few feet behind him. "Hey."

He glanced only briefly over his shoulder, but didn't offer the usual warm smile he would have any other day. "Hey. What are you doing here? I don't see a sandwich."

"Nope." She took a few steps forward until she was standing next to the bench he was sitting on. "LaSalle and I cooked dinner."

It wasn't a new concept in the least. The fully stocked kitchen got used all the time. There'd been many nights when the three of them would cook after staying late in the office. King would always make fun of her and LaSalle's bickering during one of the 'cooking sessions' and usually he'd wind up kicking them both out and doing it himself. Tonight however it'd been just her and LaSalle in the kitchen and while it'd been relaxing there had definitely been something missing as well.

"Yep," Pride said, not at all surprised. "I smelled burned cheese from up here."

"It wasn't _that_ burned," she defended with an amused roll of her eyes. She might not have been on the same culinary level as King, but usually she could at least melt some cheese. Tonight she'd been a bit more distracted than usual though. She could have done a lot more than just burn a little cheese.

Pride chuckled softly and even though it wasn't his usual care-free laugh she still took a little bit of satisfaction out of it. "Is there a kitchen left or should I start finding a way to explain scorch marks?"

"Why don't you come down and see for yourself. You can eat a little while you're down there too," she added with a not-so-subtle hinting.

"I'm not hungry."

"Too bad," she stated. "I have orders to escort you downstairs for dinner."

He glanced up at her with an 'oh really' expression and the corner of his lips twitched upwards just a fraction. "On whose orders?"

"I'll make something up later. Come on before the food gets cold."

"You're awfully bossy tonight," he commented with a smirk. He stood from the piano bench though and leisurely began walking around it. "Been talking to Loretta again?"

"Would you rather I just throw you over my shoulder and carry you down, Agent Pride?" she asked, shooting him a challenging smirk in return.

"That could certainly be entertaining."

She was glad he was beginning to come out of his self-built shell, but she didn't fail to notice how his eyes darkened and his smile faltered as they passed his 'wall of crazy' as LaSalle had called it. She looped her arm around his in an attempt to get his attention and tugged him along a little bit.

"Well if you don't hurry up I'll have to do it. And I'm sure LaSalle would be waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a camera so for both our sakes let's get going."

Pride shook his head amusedly, but the storm cloud in his eyes didn't lesson any.

* * *

**Pride POV:**

"That wasn't bad," Dwayne stated as he sat back in his chair at the table. "Even if the cheese was a little crunchy."

"That was all on Brody, King," Christopher said, pointing to the junior agent at the table with his fork. Merri rolled her eyes and tossed her napkin at him in return.

Not for the first time King was reminded of a couple of kids bickering at the dinner table. "I remember a time or two when you tried to burn the kitchen down, Christopher..." he alluded with a pointed look.

LaSalle cleared his throat and stabbed at a vegetable on his plate. "Well that was a long time ago."

"Uh huh," he commented amusedly.

Brody glanced between them with a widening smile and slightly mischievous look in her eyes. "I'm going to need to hear this story. You know that, right?"

"It's really not that interesting," LaSalle quickly stated.

"Oh now I really need to hear it."

"No you don't."

"I do actually."

King sipped his iced tea as he watched the two for a moment before interceding. "I'll tell you about it later," he told Merri. "When Chris isn't around to try and 'amend' the details."

"Thanks, King," Brody said with a crooked smile.

"Yeah," Christopher added sarcastically. "Thanks a lot, King."

"My pleasure." He wiped his mouth on his napkin and scooted his chair out. "I think I'll head back upstairs. You two made this mess, you can clean it up. I expect my kitchen to be in pristine condition the next time I see it," he added while standing from the table.

"Relax, King, we'll take care of it," LaSalle replied. "If there's anything broken though, it's all Brody's fault."

From behind him he heard the telltale _'thump_' as Brody punched Christopher's arm and the 'ouch!' that followed. A ghost of a smile crossed his face at the interaction, but as he walked up the stairs it began to fade. By the time he reached his room it had disappeared entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own NCIS: New Orleans.

A/N: And here's the second chapter. As I said, this one is set after the 'dishwashing' scene.

* * *

There was no music to fill the room, not even the slow nameless tune as before, when Brody cautiously walked into the room. Pride had left his door open, but she wasn't entirely sure he wasn't asleep. She doubted he was, considering his behavior lately, but wanted to be careful just in case.

As she walked further into the room she tried not to think about just how often she'd visited him here the last few days and even just today. At this rate it was going to become a habit to just walk on into his personal space and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that or how she _should_ feel about that.

She spotted him easily enough though and was silently relieved that she wasn't interrupting anything _too_ personal. He was sitting at the piano again, but his back was turned from the instrument as he stared at the photos hanging on his wall. There weren't as many things on the wall now, since he'd taken a lot of it downstairs to work on the last few days, but there was still enough to make his obsession very obvious. A photo of Sasha Broussard now featured prominently on the wall amongst the other items though.

"Are you going to stare at it all night?" she asked, mostly to get his attention. She had a suspicion he probably would.

He didn't even look away or glance in her direction. "Going to keep checking up on me?" There was no accusation in his tone, no anger, just an empty question and more evidence that he wasn't entirely paying attention to the world around him.

"Probably," she answered honestly. "At least until you give me reason not to."

"I don't need a babysitter, Meredith."

"I'm not here to be a babysitter," she said in the same serious tone as he had. "I'm here to be a friend."

He didn't reply right away, but when he did she noticed his shoulders seemed to sag a little more than usual. "I know," he said softly. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine."

She scoffed at his choice of wording. It hadn't been too long ago when she'd told him something similar when he'd shown up at her house after the _Moultrie_ case had been closed again. "You're not fine. You have no reason to be fine. You will be though," she said confidently. "Because you have LaSalle, and Loretta, and Sebastian, and Patton, and me to back you up. You're not alone, Pride, and you don't have to be."

It was, in a way, the pot calling the kettle black, so to speak, but it was the truth and it was a truth she herself had begun to realize a few weeks before when she'd been sinking into her own dark hole. She'd accepted the offered hand of friendship though, even if it had been a bit hesitantly.

A few prolonged seconds of silence passed and she wondered if he was going to acknowledge her presence anymore. Finally he spoke though. "Agent Percy called," he said. "We set up a meeting."

"Good. That's good," she replied with a nod. "When and where?"

He glanced over at her for a second before staring at the wall again. "You're not going."

"Pride..."

"I'm going to go alone." His tone held the finality that she normally knew not to bother arguing with, but this time she wanted to anyway. He continued before she could do more than open her mouth to protest though. "It would look too suspicious if we all showed up. We can't risk blowing Percy's cover."

She could understand that. She'd been involved with undercover ops in one way or another enough to know how important secret and carefully constructed meet-ups were. That didn't necessarily mean he had to go alone though. "You can still take someone with you," she pointed out. "They can stay at a distance and be look out. It won't cause a scene if done right."

"And let me guess...you're volunteering to be look out?"

"I _have_ done these kinds of things before. I won't blow anyone's cover."

"I know you wouldn't," he assured her softly, though he sounded as though he was barely focused on the conversation. A few more seconds of silence passed before he looked over at her with a mostly sad half-smile. "Have a seat." He patted the empty space on the bench next to him and she couldn't help but feel a little satisfied he'd given the invitation.

She walked over and carefully sat down on the bench. She knew a little about the piano's history and understand its importance to him, so sitting next to him at it seemed even more personal than standing in his room that first time had.

"Christopher gone for the night?" he asked after they'd sat together for a few moments in another bout of silence.

She nodded as she studied the obsession wall with him. "Yeah."

"You should have already left too."

She shrugged in response and didn't bother giving an excuse. He didn't say anything else and when she looked over at him she realized he'd slipped back into the far away trance he'd been in when she'd first entered. She doubted he was even fully aware of her next to him since he focus was once again on the case. She let it go, deciding to just let him think while she simply sat there in silent support, but after a few minutes passed she turned from the wall and moved her legs to the other side of the bench so she was facing the piano.

Carefully she let her fingers graze the well-used keys, not firm enough to actually play any notes, but enough to feel the texture under her fingertips. She wasn't exactly a musician, but she'd had her share of music classes way back in high school. As she sat at the piano she could easily imagine Pride sitting here with a young Laurel as they played random tunes and laughed happily. It was a mental image that made her smile lightly. She wished she could see some of that content and happy Dwayne Pride now instead of the sullen shadow next to her.

"You're never going to play anything like that."

She hadn't expected him to speak so suddenly and a sideways glance told her he was still studying the photos and evidence hanging on the wall. "I wasn't really going to," she said. "I was just...admiring it." She glanced from him to the piano and back as a half-smile spread across her face. "Why don't you play something for me?"

At first she didn't think he'd take the bait, but finally he looked away from the wall and slowly turned towards the piano so they were both facing the same direction. He looked at the keys as he let his fingers ghost over them before playing a few notes. It was a slow, almost morose tune that seemed to match his own mood, but only lasted a few seconds before he stopped.

He glanced sideways at her before looking back at the piano as some of the distant look in his eyes began to fade. "We'll both play." He inclined his head towards the keys and moved his hands over to give her space.

"I don't really play," she said. "In fact I _don't_ play."

"Here," he said and to her surprise he scooted closer and picked up her hands, placing them on the keys and positioning her fingers. He didn't move his hands as she expected though, instead he kept them just on top of hers to guide her movements. She pointedly ignored the way her heart beat a little faster for a moment and concentrated on the keys instead.

Together their fingers moved along the keys, his doing most of the work, and a slightly more cheerful tune floated through the room. The music continued for only a minute or two before the song ended and she let her fingers slide from the keys.

"King?" she asked softly as the last of the music faded. They both continued staring at the piano, still engrossed in the fading notes.

"Yeah?"

"You do know that you're not alone in this, right? I mean..._really _know."

He nodded. "I know."

She nodded as well in return and he placed his fingers back on the piano. As he began to play she felt herself relax and leaned her head against his shoulder as the music drifted through the room and washed over them. He continued to play, apparently uncaring that his junior agent was using his shoulder as a pillow, and together they simply enjoyed the music. She would sit there with him all night if need be. She'd sleep on the piano bench if he asked her to.

What else were friends for, after all?


End file.
